Glen Uhl-don't put fishing tackle away yet

Glen Uhl would probably fish in a bath tub if he thought the least little bit there might be fish in it.
That's why he carries a small rod and a bit of tackle around with him wherever he goes.
He's getting ready to head north for his hunting camp in the woods. Wife Wanda will go along. But deer isn't the only thing on his mind.
He's going to be waiting to see how people are doing on the pier at East Tawas fishing for white fish and these tasty piscatorial species are in yet.
Uhl and his wife usually can them, keeping them to eat at other times of the year. But he insists they are good about anyway you choose to cook them.
Over the past few years Uhl and I each have lost longtime fishing pals. Joe Zikewich, known locally as Ice Floe Joe and Uhl were practically inseparable especially on the water.
Wild Bill Bill Baker and I fished a fair amount of water together namely shore fishing for walleye with set lines in Port Huron along the St. Clair River.
Since both men have passed on, Uhl and I have gravitated toward being fishing pals. However, this past year we hardly got out due to circumstances beyond anyone's control.
His wife has been ill and my wife if going through life with Parkinson's disease. We both have a responsibility to caring for our spouses that far exceeds anything else.
We look forward to the year ahead and the chance to fish a bit.

Glen Uhl speaking about whitefish fishing at OCSFA meeting.

Travel is great but good to be home

Just back from a three week trip to southern California to attend a relatives wedding and catch up with friends we haven't seen in years.
We used to live in Inglewood and Glendale after my discharge from the Navy. Since moving back east we have kept in contact with many people we used to pal around with. Most were in our wedding party.
While California is nice and boasts sunshine and warm weather without humidity most of the time, there is nothing like getting home.
Going in your fridge when you want something, sleeping your own bed, watching what you want to, going in and out in your own vehicle are some of the things I miss.
Practically anywhere we were around Pasadena mountains were in the background. So was traffic. It's horrendous to say the lease.
Doing south from Yosemite, we began encountering traffic around Bakersfield. Further south as we got into a portion of Highway 5 known as "The Grapevine" (named for a small town of that name) it became worse.
"This is the primary north/south route for trucking," brother-in-law Jim Heermans said. There was every imaginable size truck entering the Grapevine, a curving part of the freeway that leaves 18-wheelers climbing in what used to be known as granny gear, a very low gear.
Among the twists and turns came the downhills that had to be handed carefully both by trucks and private vehicles due to the possibility of overheating brakes.
I prefer driving in the right lane because I don't normally drive fast. Jim prefers the left land and gave me many reasons why this was the best choice.
Along the decent into Los Angles County we had to be aware of lane changes that were at times confusing to someone that wasn't familiar with them like me.
"Get over," Jim would admonish. "Okay now we're going to have to be in the left lane," and so it went.
Once we reached to outskirts of Pasadena and were on surface streets I found a wide spot, pulled over and let him drive the rest of the way.
While we complain of traffic around here it's not near the amount in southern California. On the Grapevine headed north was bumper to bumper traffic creeping along.
"Those people are returning home from work. They make this time every day," Jim said. We're glad we don't have to drive it daily as a part of living.